The Revenant
by OneTurnOuttaTune
Summary: A Snapey fic in which Draco must be rescued from his father, and along the way someone from the Potion Master's past shows up. No slash, no romance at all. Please R/R! Chap 6 now up.
1. Disclaimer And Author's Note

*Disclaimer*  
Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts and anything else you recognize from this story does not belong to  
me. They belong to JK Rowling. Suing me would be a waste of your time, so please don't. Lye is mine but if you ask real   
nice I'll let you borrow her.  
  
*Author's Note*  
I started this story as a one-chapter thing but now it's taken hold and started to get more chapters and even a -gasp- plot!  
It was orignally called 'Introspection and Urination' but that is now the name of the first chapter, and the story has been   
renamed 'The Revenant'. I stole this name from a song by the amazingly talented Brody Armstrong of The Distillers, but it's  
not a song fic. The song simply reminded me of it. I'm gunna post the song next, so if you'd like to read it go ahead  
but if you don't, go right ahead and read the story. I hope you'll be pleased. By the way, revenant is a term for one who  
has returned from the dead.  
  
  
'I Am A Revenant' by the Distillers  
  
Another year has passed, and I'm all right  
I lick the salt from my wounds and run into the night  
It's unknown why collusion goes on  
It rapes like betrayal  
And I'm rotting in the squalor of some  
  
Do you remember the rage?  
I remember the hate  
I remember that it rained for years  
And the blood has left a stain, hey...  
  
You say I got karma to collect  
I dig my grave and I'm here  
waiting for some kind of check  
And if I get one I hold my breath  
I racked my spine  
It takes a year of you to warrant a test  
As the years go by I won't cry  
It's the year you walked into my life  
I will despise....  
  
We are the revenant, whoa  
And we will rise up from the dead  
We become the living  
We are back to reclaim our stolen breath  
  
We are the revenant, whoa  
And we will rise up from the dead  
We become the living  
We are back to reclaim our stolen breath  
  
Another year has passed and I'm all right...  
I like the salt from my wounds and run into the night...  
Run into the night, run into the night  
Run into the night... 


	2. Introspection and Urination

Severus Snape glared at the throng of students passing by. Thankfully, they were all   
preparing to leave. The teary-eyed goodbyes and tight embraces between said throng did  
nothing for his mood. He was displeased, but then, what was new?  
  
As the last of the students had dwindled their way out the doors, Snape set off for the cold  
and informal comfort of his dungeons. Walking briskly past the classroom that would be void  
of irritants for two blessed months, he turned and pointed his wand at an obscure painting   
and muttered a password. He stalked into the mainroom and collapsed resignedly onto a large  
armchair. Looking at his surroundings, his glare softened a bit.   
  
Sparsely furnished, his rooms couldn't exactly be called "relaxing" and any interior   
decorater might suffer heart failure if they were introduced to them. The walls were blank,  
aside from the ceiling-high bookcases that housed large jars of formaldehyde containing all  
sorts of creatures and appendages, Erlenmeyer flasks with various colored liquids, random   
strange brass and glass objects for a number of purposes, and of course, lines of books. A  
large fireplace took up the majority of one wall, but was empty and looked as though it  
might not have been used for a while. Snape didn't see any need to warm the outside when   
the inside couldn't be warmed as well. Two large armchairs, black leather, were set on the   
edges of a sprawling Oriental rug in black and silver with slight hints of green. Between   
the chairs was a couch of the same leather and against the wall opposite the fireplace was   
a large desk and a chair in matching dark wood. A door to the right led to his office, and  
a door to the right led to his bedroom and bathroom. Not cozy by any means, but to Snape  
it was home.  
  
The only other object in the room was a low table set near the door to his bedroom. On this  
table was a basin filled with silver-looking liquid. A pensieve. Snape had no need to look   
back into what has occured in his past; the memories haunted him often enough. This was   
mostly for Dumbledore's benefit as he could look into it and see what Snape had discovered  
about the Dark Lord recently. Snape found this a more pleasant and less harrowing way of  
relaying the information than telling Dumbledore directly. Not that he would get...  
emotional.  
  
No, emotions were not something that bothered him often. By all accounts, he was as cold and  
emotionless as one could get, except perhaps in the case of anger. He had experienced his   
share of joy, pain, loss, awe, and - yes, it's true - even love. However, he had long since  
learned to control these and any emotions with the accuracy of a lion tamer with a whip.  
  
Emotions were simply not something that he dealt with.  
  
That is, until there was nothing else to deal with.  
  
Following this vein of thought, Snape rose from his chair and moved to the desk. It was   
unusually clear. No papers left to grade, no lessons to plan, no potions to be made. He  
grunted a grunt of clear dissatisfaction. Nothing to take his mind off of...well, his mind.  
He opened one of many drawers and sifted around in it. A thicker, glossy peice of paper slipped  
across his fingertips. He withdrew it curiously and immediately regretted it.  
  
Smiling up from the picture was a younger version of himself and a slim woman who appeared  
to be about twenty years old, with a messy mane of dark brown hair and a wide grin. He glared  
as he watched the pair in the photo wave at him then turn to share a kiss. Tossing the picture  
back into the drawer and slamming it shut he returned to the armchair and glared at the empty  
fireplace.  
  
Despite his best attempts, memories flooded into his head. Lyeta, or Lye as she had preferred to  
be called was his first - no, he reminded himself - his only girlfriend. He had met her fresh out  
of Hogwarts when he had been recruited by the death eaters. She didn't work for the ministry,  
though. She was a bartender that he met when he began frequenting bars, which, he remembered,   
didn't take long. At first being a DeathEater had been, almost fun, but it had quickly taken it's  
toll. His relationship with Lye seemed impossible - her spunky nature had attracted his younger  
self, though now he was sure it would make him ill. For some reason when he related to her   
that he was a DeathEater she hadn't minded all that much. It didn't make much sense until he   
found out her little secret. He shuddered and tried to shut his mind off to no avail. Lye was  
a vampire, not usually the sort of creature that is troubled by wizard's business. He had pushed  
her away after this discovery, even when she had not pushed him away  
for what he had chosen to be. He deserted her for what she was born into. Stupid arrogance.  
The girl had never done anything to hurt him, never even suggested that she wanted to...*eat*   
him. But what was done was done, and there was no way of going back.  
  
His mind filtered through what had happened shortly after. He had become a slightly less cynical  
version of himself as he was now, and developed his trademark sneer as he became more involved  
in his actions as a DeathEater and an alcoholic. The nightmares that would haunt him were   
subdued by the liquor, and the liquor spawned more nightmares as he did things he never would have   
done sober while intoxicated.   
  
Then came the horrible night that haunted him even now. He had been summoned, as per usual, and   
shown up (amazingly) sober. The sight that greeted him he didn't even need to put in the pensieve   
as it was burned so deep into his memory that he doubted if it would ever fade. Lye, the very girl  
he had loved and shunned, was held by magic in the middle of a circle of his hooded cohorts in evil. She was  
naked, obviously in great pain, and Lucius Malfoy was atop her. Snape shuddered involuntarily as  
the scene came back to him, but convinced himself it was from the outer cold and not the inner.   
  
They had killed her, of course, and he had managed to keep a stony visage through the whole ordeal.  
It was his fault, he didn't deny that, as it was one of Voldemort's "tests of loyalty" which he so  
often liked to conduct. The formula was simple, take a loved one and torture them until the follower in question  
attempted to save them, or kill them. Snape did neither. He simply had watched and the girl had   
eventually been a victim of the Avada Kedarva curse. He had apparently passed the "test" but since   
then he had not allowed anyone to get too close - all future tests of loyalty were burdens to himself  
and himself alone.  
  
Snape didn't think of it as chivalry, he thought of it as the only the way. It was obviously futile  
to care about anyone when they'd eventually be taken away from him. Still, he felt a slight pressure  
on his stomach. Bothersome in it's insistance. Was he feeling guilty? Nothing of the sort. Emotions,  
he restated to himself, were not something he needed. That was not the problem at all.  
  
He just needed to take a piss. 


	3. Confrontation and Regurgitation

Chapter 2: Confrontation and Regurgitation  
  
Severus Snape returned from the bathroom relieved, at least physically. He headed to the fireplace planning to make tea,  
as he had quit consuming alcohol along with his return to Hogwarts. He wouldn't have minded some right now, though. The  
thought vanished before he got to the fireplace, thanks to a searing pain in his left forearm. He gritted his teeth and  
grasped his arm, cursing.  
  
"Oh bloody hell," he muttered through his clenched teeth. "So much for -relaxing-."  
  
Grabbing a long hooded cloak (black, of course) he set out through the hallways. Thankfully there was no one but himself  
to deal with as he continued through the large main doorway and towards the village of Hogsmeade. Upon leaving the grounds  
of Hogwarts he apparated, not sure to where he was going. He only knew what he'd be greeted with.  
  
He reappeared in a lavish, large room. Malfoy manor, he realized with a sneer. Before him, writhing on the floor was  
a...well, a human, he assumed though he couldn't be sure. The thing had been stripped of it's skin and mercilessly   
tortured until it was no longer recognizable in any way.  
  
'Have to check the dental records for that one,' he mused. His thoughts were interrupted by a gratingly oily male voice.  
  
"Ah, Severus, I see you've decided to join us," it was the voice of Lucius Malfoy.   
  
'As if I had a choice,' Snape thought to himself, but replied. "Of course."  
  
"I expect you remember Mr. Lark?," Malfoy continued, motioning to the...thing...on the floor. "Oh, don't be rude, now, say  
hello to Severus."  
  
Malfoy gave the thing a rather forceful toe to the, well, what would have been stomach. It didn't seem to respond, and  
Snape imagined that was due to the fact that it was in so much pain it couldn't register more.  
  
"Lark?," he said to Malfoy, concern not evident in his voice. "Pretty risky, isn't it?"  
  
Madrid Lark was an employee of the Ministry, and a rather high-ranking one at that. Besides this, he was a muggle-born  
wizard. Or had been.  
  
Malfoy laughed. The sound evoked responses in one's body similar to that of listening to fingernails scraped across a   
chalkboard.   
  
"Risky? Well, maybe, but now that the Dark Lord has returned -," Malfoy's voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. " - nothing  
can touch us. Nothing. And those who oppose us will find that out in the worst way."  
  
He grinned as if he knew something. Snape didn't like that grin, and he didn't return the gesture. Aside from the fact that  
Lucius Malfoy was the one who got him into this bloody mess, Snape had plenty of reasons to dislike him. But then, anyone  
who knew the man for more than five minutes could have come up with at least a hundred reasons.  
  
His revere was broken as the temperature in the room seemed to drop and the throbbing pain in his arm increased.  
  
"Severussss..," a voice behind him hissed. Snape flinched, but not visibly, and slowly turned.  
  
Dark red, cat-like eyes. Spidery-veins running across pale, thin hands. The abscence of any protrusion for a nose. A  
nauseating smile. Voldemort had returned.  
  
Supressing the bile creeping up his throat, Snape dropped to his knees and kissed the hems of this monster's robes.   
  
"My Lord," he managed. "You have returned, finally. How, I dare not -"  
  
The imposing figure cut him off. "Yessss, I have returned, which you no doubt already knew. And it seems you have as well,  
though I daresay, you are somewhat tardy in your return."  
  
His statement left the feeling of questions. Questions he wanted answers for. Questions Snape would have to answer. Snape  
rose.  
  
"My Lord, I couldn't possibly go...everyone around, surely someone would have noticed. You must understand, if I am to   
continue in my posistion at that school, I can leave no hints as to my alterior motives," Snape covered. Of course he hadn't  
returned. He was almost as insistent as Fudge that Potter was mistaken when he told the story, but his was feeble hope. He  
had felt the pain, he knew Voldemort was back. He just didn't want to believe.  
  
"Yessss," hissed the vile creature he was forced to call 'Lord'. "I understand a slightly belated appearance. But, two   
weeksss...it is rather unimpressive." The monstrosity trailed a long, sickly-looking finger across Snape's cheek and he   
forced himself not to blanch. "One might suspect that you aren't as loyal as you claim..."  
  
Snape didn't have a chance to respond. The cruciatus curse hit hard, causing pain to every nerve in his body. As he fought  
not to drop to the floor and writhe as the once-human-Mr. Lark was, he knelt again.  
  
"Loyal," he spoke through gritted teeth now. "To you, always...loyal."  
  
The figure above him grinned that stomach-turning grin and snaked away with a final. "Yesss, we shall see. You may go now."  
  
Severus Snape didn't waste time. Despite the pain still racking his body, he managed to apparate back to whence he came.  
He found himself outside the grounds of Hogwarts, and promptly dropped to his knees and vomitted. No, this would not be  
a very relaxing summer...  
  
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*A/N* YAY! I got a review. Took me a while to figure out how to read it, but...eh. Anyway thanks to Aetheral Blood AKA  
Hildagard for my first ever reviewy, and making me want to write more. I dunno where this is going to go, but maybe it'll  
be fun, huh? Disclaimer has it's own chapter so I hope that'll suffice. The story needs a new name, too. Reviews please! 


	4. Revelations and Operations

Chapter 3: Revelations and Operations  
  
  
Rising to his full heighth after sucessfully emptying his stomach and waiting for the pain of the Unforgivable to wear  
off, Severus Snape started off in the direction of the looming castle. The familiar sneer returned to his face as he  
met the front doors and entered. His hopes of an eventless return to his rooms was dashed with the impressive figure of  
Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Clad in light blue robes and the ever-present half-moon spectacles, the elder wizard looked down at Snape with a set  
visage of curosity and grave concern. He was frowning and there was none of the familiar sparkle in his eyes.  
  
"Severus," he said solemnly. "Come into my office."  
  
He turned to the gargoyle and spoke the password (gummy bears) and the younger wizard followed him up the twisting staircase to the   
warm, welcoming office with it's preening pheonix and dishes of candy. They both seated themselves without words and  
Snape waited for Dumbledore to open the conversation.  
  
"It is my belief that you have been to see Voldemort," he said simply.  
  
Snape nodded. He really wasn't in the mood for discussion.  
  
"And is it true? He's been restored?"  
  
He sighed. "Yes, it's true. He was at Malfoy's home."  
  
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "This is a sad revelation indeed. Several of our students will need to be protected with utmost care."  
  
'Potter,' Snape thought with venom. 'Who care's if I get cursed to hell and back as long as that brat's safe?' He only  
nodded at Dumbledore's statement, however.  
  
"Was young Mr. Malfoy present when you arrived?," the Headmaster continued, not without surprising Snape. He was worried   
about Draco?  
  
"Er, no, sir, I didn't see him."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "I have a proposition for you. I do not deny that it will be dangerous, but it is important."  
  
Snape's silence urged him to go on.  
  
"It has long been my suspicion that Draco wasn't exactly treated well at home," he told Snape. "Surely, he was given anything  
he ever wanted or needed - except *love* -"  
  
Snape snorted.  
  
"Now, I know how you feel about affection but it is a necessity for a child to develop into a well-adjusted adult. You  
have noted, surely, as I have that Draco has been hiding behind anger and sarcasm in the past few years...not unlike   
someone else I know."  
  
The Headmaster's words made Snape's disbelieving smirk dissolve. 'Someone else' was of course Snape himself. Snape's   
childhood had been...well, less than pleasant. To think that one of his students was subject to the same treatment he  
had recieved at home was nearly enough to make him shudder.  
  
"What do you want me to do?," Snape croaked out.  
  
"I need you to go to the Malfoy home, and take Draco. He shouldn't be too hard to convince, if what I believe is true."  
  
Snape just nodded again. It was going to be a long night.  
  
"Where should I take the boy?"  
  
Dumbledore paused for thought on this. "Bring him back for the night, but I have a feeling that we're going to need to move  
him again...do you have anywhere you could think of to take him; a safehouse of sorts?"  
  
Dumbledore knew that Snape rarely left the school, even during the summer breaks. He was right in figuring, however, that  
Snape had some place of residence outside of Hogwart's.   
  
"My father's house should suffice," Snape replied, spitting the word 'father' out as if it was venomous.  
  
"Good. I'd like you to do this as soon as possible."  
  
Snape rose to head out, but turned back to Dumbledore.  
  
"Sir, I'll point out that this may clue Voldemort of my real loyalties..." he left an unanswered question.  
  
"I had thought of that, Severus. I believe you have done more than enough in your work as a spy for us, just try to make  
this a discreet operation."  
  
Snape left with a curt nod. 'Excellent,' he thought sarcastically. 'I've done enough as a spy, so he sets me up for certain  
death. Why, thanks Albus, you're so kind.'  
  
Severus Snape retreated to his dungeons and sparked a fire in his underused fireplace. It was going to be a long night,   
indeed.  
  
  
  
-----------  
  
  
  
Flooing into the large livingroom, Severus Snape snuck out of the fireplace to find that the room was empty. He sighed inwardly and  
wished he would have had more time to think out this task. Dumbledore was right, of course, Draco Malfoy would need to be  
protected from his father. The boy may be loathe to admit anything was wrong, and Snape didn't want a scene. He thought over  
possible solutions...knocking the boy out seemed to be most likely, but then he would be even more grudging to Snape whenever he  
was revived.   
  
'Sticky situation,' he related to himself as he crept stealthily up the stairs. He had been in the manor enough times to know it  
fairly well and proceeded with extra caution as he snuck past the bedroom of Lucius and Narcissa. The stairs turned to the right  
and he followed their path to an abrupt halt with a door. He figured there would be plenty of locking charms, so he was suprised  
when it clicked open after a simple 'Alohamora' muttered under his breath.  
  
The room was breathtaking, dark and expansive. There was a large four-poster bed which was, oddly enough, empty. In addition the  
room was furnished with a huge oak desk on which lay an assortment of quills, parchment and books. There was a matching bookshelf  
and an assortment of paintings, as well as a large chest of drawers and a door to a private bathroom. All in all, more comforting   
than Snape's dungeons. Snape's eyes searched the room and came to rest on a figure staring out a large window at the night   
sky. He looked anything but comfortable.  
  
Draco Malfoy had shot up like a weed in his fourth year at Hogwarts. He was no longer the scrawny brat he had been when he first  
arrived. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest and a scowl was imprinted on the chiseled features of his face. The figure  
had not yet changed out of his robes, though it was well past midnight. Snape took this, and the room, into account before   
Draco noticed he wasn't alone. The click of the door shutting clued him in.  
  
Draco turned and spotted the shadowy figure. He muttered 'Lumos', pointing his wand and Severus Snape came into view.  
  
"Professor," he stated, not without a slight tone of confusion. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Snape stepped closer and tried to find the least personal way of describing his 'mission'.  
  
"Events have led your Headmaster to believe that is no longer safe for you to remain at home. He's sent me to take you somewhere...  
safer, in light of these events."  
  
Draco snorted derisively. "Maybe the old fool isn't as blind as I thought."  
  
Snape was surprised at Draco's unsurprise. He didn't seem put off by the idea in the least. As Draco turned from the window   
and moved closer, Snape was slightly confused.  
  
"So, where are we to go?" the younger man questioned.  
  
"I would, erm, prefer not to relay that information until we reach our destination."  
  
Draco only nodded.  
  
"I suppose we better get on then, before Father wakes up. He sometimes likes to visit the prisoners at night."  
  
'Prisoners?,' Snape thought. He had never been aware of Lucius keeping any prisoners in his home, unless you count his own son and  
that poor woman Narcissa. He was not aware, either, that Lucius was already awake.  
  
"Yes," he said to Draco. "I suspect we could floo to a safe destination, somewhere neutral and then continue from there."  
  
He waited as Draco packed a few things into a small bag and threw it over his shoulder. He also picked up his broom. Despite the  
fact that he had started playing Quidditch to piss off the Potter brat even more, he had grown rather fond of the game and found  
some sort of sanctuary in flying. The two headed for the door.  
  
Sneaking down the stairs, the pair was as quiet as possible. Their ears were open for any hint of noise from the elder Malfoy's   
bedroom but they still failed to hear a certain elder Malfoy lurking. They reached the fireplace before said Malfoy made his   
presence known.  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Severus," the familiar oily voice drawled.  
  
Snape cringed and turned to face Lucius. But he was surprised to find another face there waiting for him. A face he thought  
never lay eyes upon again, save for his memories and a single photograph.  
  
Lucius' grin widened. "Aren't you forgetting something?"  
  
Draco faltered and fell silent looking back and forth between his father and his professor. He hadn't a clue in the world why  
Snape looked suddenly so pale, nor why Lucius was holding a certain prisoner with his wand to her neck like a switchblade.  
  
Snape blanched, he couldn't hide it. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind that led to his enivitable decision. Vibrant  
eyes stared back from the corpse-like face of the girl Lucius was holding. Lucius grinned sickeningly. His wand pointed  
at her throat. Her eyes pleading. His mind reeling. It happened in a flash. A flash of green light.  
  
"Avada Kedarva!," Snape said, summoning power he didn't even know he had. Lucius Malfoy flew back against the wall as the curse  
hit him, then slumped to the ground. Draco showed no sign of emotion as his father took a last breath. Snape didn't even look  
at Lucius. His eyes were transfixed to the girl before him.  
  
"Lye..." he murmured.  
  
  
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*A/N* Well this was supposed to be two chapters but since I've already written both I didn't see any reason not to post them  
both. I'm really new to this "plot" stuff but hopefully I can find some sort of conclusion eventually. Thanks to Coraline  
for reading this and convincing me to post it. Check out her works under Festacia. That is All. 


	5. Restitution and Consumption

Chapter 4: Restitution and Consumption  
  
"Professor," Draco hissed, staring at the body of his father. "Perhaps we should be moving along."  
  
Severus Snape forced his mind to form logical thought patterns, looking away from the girl.  
  
"Right," he told Draco. "Where do you keep the floo powder?"  
  
Draco moved to a small table beside the elaborate fireplace and returned to Snape's side with a small black box, intricately  
carved. He opened the lid and offered it to the Potions Master. Snape shook his head.  
  
"You go first. Hogwarts."  
  
The younger man nodded and set the box back in it's place on the table, taking a pinch of the silvery powder that was inside.  
He stepped to the fireplace and threw the powder in, clearly stating his destination. He then stepped in and promptly vanished,  
broomstick and all.  
  
Snape turned back to the figure of the girl and took in what he was seeing. Her hair, which had once been long and flowing,  
was now cut short and sticking out at odd angles. She looked wholy unhealthy, almost dead. 'She is dead, really,' Snape   
reminded himself. Still, she was thin, paler than pale, her cheeks were sunken in and the only thing that seemed alive about  
her were her eyes. The dark brown orbs were staring at him with lividity. He made a move to step towards her.   
  
"If you think," her voice cut off his movements, sharp and scathing. "for one second that I'm even halfway considering the   
possibility of going anywhere with you, you're more twisted and deranged than I thought."  
  
"Lye," he said, resorting to her old nickname in hopes of soothing her. "We can't stay here. It's too dangerous."  
  
She scoffed. "Dangerous? Dangerous, Severus? You seem to forget who you're talking to, and besides - you just effectively  
slaughtered the only thing dangerous in this house. Unless you count me."  
  
The murderous look hadn't left her eyes, and Snape noticed a hunger mixed in with it. Not, he also noted, a sexual hunger in  
any way. From the look of her she probably hadn't fed in quite some time and it looked like he was going to be dinner. For  
some reason, however, she held herself back.  
  
"Look," Lyeta continued in a cold voice. "You go wherever the fuck you want, but count me out. Consider this meeting a warning.  
If I ever come across you again, you can be sure you'll have bigger problems than a pathetic dark wizard."  
  
Her sneer rivaled Snape's usual one and he was taken aback. In the two years he'd known the girl she never seemed to have a   
vicious bone in her body. Now, it seemed, even her phalanges could've devoured him whole. This in mind, it would seem that  
Snape was having a moment of mental retardation as he lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist. Despite her threats,  
her arms were still bound by magic. She hissed at him as he pinched some floo powder from the box and threw it into the fire.  
  
"Hogwarts," he said as clearly as he could, and stepped into the fire with Lye in tow. He tried to ignore her vehement curses  
as they swirled through a ring of green flame.  
  
  
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Snape and prisoner tumbled forward out of the fireplace into his familiar dungeon rooms. Draco was sitting calmly on the black  
leather couch, with only the slightest hint of confusion crossing his features as his Potions Master rolled onto the rug along  
with one of his late father's prisoners.  
  
The professor got up and dusted off his deep black cloak, taking it off and placing it over one of the armchairs with a slight  
nod at Draco, who returned the gesture, seemingly prefering not to speak at the moment. Snape then diverted his attention to  
the girl on the floor.   
  
She glared up at him, no, both of them with such animosity as Snape had rarely seen directed his way. He wondered idly for a  
moment if this is how most of his pupils saw himself, and if so, he could understand their fear. His mind quickly slipped back  
into nostalgia, and he remembered the way she used to look at him. Adoring, caring, loving even. Always that playful glint in her  
eyes. The person on the floor was not the girl he had fallen in love with by most accounts.   
  
"Excuse me," she interruped his thoughts. Her tone did not suggest she expected to be excused, however. "If you could tear   
yourself from whatever the hell it is you're musing over, do you think you could get me the fuck off this floor?"  
  
Snape extended a hand without speaking and she just glared more. Was it possible for her to look more hateful, he wondered.  
Then he realized why she was glaring at him so intently; her arms were still bound. Not trusting her to not attack him just  
yet, he instead gripped her shoulders and moved her to one of the armchairs. The glare did not cease.  
  
"Where the fuck are we?," she demanded.  
  
"Hogwarts." Her eyes showed no recognition, so he added," School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I work here now."  
  
She laughed. It was a cold, mirthless sound, and Snape was once again reminded of how different she was. Her laugh never   
sounded like that before.  
  
"You? A teacher?," she stated in disbelief. "I'd hate to be one of your students."  
  
Draco shifted uneasily in his seat at these words.  
  
"Uhm, Professor?," he addressed Snape, a bit more subdued that usual.   
  
"What?," Snape spat at him, sounding harsher than he meant to. The night's events were definately taking a toll on him. Draco  
almost flinched and Snape almost felt bad.  
  
Draco had a million questions he wanted to ask - Why had Snape killed his father to save this woman? Why did this woman seem to  
know Snape so well? Why did they see it fit to bring him back to Hogwarts? He didn't voice any of these questions, though. He'd   
long learned that interrupting a conversation like this one could be...painful.  
  
"I'm rather tired," Draco lied, instead. "Perhaps I could, er, find somewhere to sleep?"  
  
Snape nodded. "Go see the Headmaster first, I'm sure he'd be most interested to see that you've arrived. He will direct you to  
where you are to stay."  
  
Draco didn't need to be told twice. With a final nod to his professor, he left the room as quick as decency would allow. Both  
Snape and Lye watched him go. When he was gone, Lye turned back to Snape.  
  
"I see my presumptions about your students wasn't far off," she stated. Snape didn't answer, he was standing above her with his  
arms crossed over his chest and a bit less than the usual venom in his expression. Lye shifted - sitting on her hands wasn't  
exactly comfortable.  
  
"Why did you bring me here?," she finally continued after a moment of silence.  
  
"If I had left you at Malfoy's, you would have been killed. The Dark Lord would undoubtedly be made aware of the death of one of  
his followers."  
  
"At the hands of another one of his followers," she added. "Besides - he already tried that once, remember?"  
  
Snape winced at her first comment. 'Discreet operation, indeed,' he thought. He looked over the vampire in his armchair and,  
despite his better judgement, he took out his wand and freed her arms. Dying at the hands of her could be no worse than dying  
at the hands of Voldemort, he figured.  
  
Lyeta flexed her wrists to make sure they were in working order, then looked up at Snape. "What time is it?"  
  
"Two or so, I imagine," he replied.  
  
"Right. I'm out of here in that case."  
  
She rose from the chair but was promptly pushed back into it by Snape. She glared up at him.  
  
"You're not going anywhere. You're in danger."  
  
"Not as much as you, especially if I stay here. Besides, I'm hungry...and you're not exactly an appetising snack," she offered  
a fake but saccharine-sweet smile. "So if you don't mind..."  
  
She rose again, only to be pushed down again. Despite the fact that he actually -wanted- her to stay there, which he was loath  
to admit, he could just see the end results of letting her go. Finding McGonnagal, Hagrid, or even Filch for that matter, dead   
in the hallways and drained of all their blood was not something he looked forward to.  
  
Lye made a sound of clear annoyance. "Look, Severus, if you're keeping me here in some hope of rekindling the burning flame of  
romance" - she sounded very sarcastic at this point - "I can assure you it's a lost cause. If you're really keeping me here  
because you think I'm in danger, I can also assure you that I can take care of myself. That...thing...you work for isn't   
concerned with my kind anyway."  
  
"If I may remind you," Snape replied, ignoring the romance remark. "He seemed rather interested in you before."  
  
"And if *I* may remind *you*, that was your fault in the first fucking place. I don't see how keeping me with you would put me  
in any less danger than letting me go."  
  
Snape sighed resignedly and lowered himself onto the recently vacated couch. "I can't protect you - that much was already proved.  
However, this castle is about the only place that is safe from Voldemort."  
  
She smirked. "Oh, I see. I suppose that's why you're here. Not up to facing the Lord you ran from, huh?"  
  
Outraged at her mocking tone, Snape was off the couch again in a second and glaring down at her. "Woman, you have no idea what   
you're talking about and it would do you good not to try to mettle in my affairs and keep your unruly mouth shut!"  
  
Snape suddenly remembered the only time he'd ever used that much force in speaking to her before. Memories came flooding back  
of himself yelling at her. 'How could you have kept this from me?,' he was yelling. 'I trusted you, only to find out you're a...  
a...an overgrown mosquito!'At that time, his voice had made her submit and nearly come to tears, finally choking out that he should  
'fuck off and die' before he made his grand exit. He wasn't expecting much better of a response, but he was hoping for some of  
that submissive nature to return.   
  
Lye just kept smirking. "I suppose I should be running and hiding now, shouldn't I? Well you know something, Severus? Any power  
you might have had over me you gave up years ago. I'm not scared of you anymore, and furthermore, I don't give a damn what would  
do me good. Spending nearly eight years in Malfoy's dungeon wasn't exactly good for me, either, you know?"  
  
Nothing doing. She wasn't the least bit humbled by his tone,and he was again suprised with hers. Snape groaned inwardly...eight   
years?  
  
"I thought you were dead," he sputtered. "I would have had no way, in any case, to -"  
  
She cut him off. "Oh, come off it, already. Even if you had known I was alive, you wouldn't have tried to do shit for me. I saw  
you at that fucking meeting, standing there all emotionless, watching that bastard rape me. Didn't try to help me then, did you?  
Weren't quite as fucking chivalrous as you were tonight, huh?"  
  
She was standing now, glaring up at the taller man with malice clearly written in her eyes. It took a lot for Snape not  
to back down from her peircing gaze, but he didn't. She was right, of course, he hadn't done anything. His 'position' as a   
DeathEater had prevented him from doing anything, and he was still bitter about her not telling him the whole truth. It was  
stupid, but he remembered as well that he was not the one who'd been jilted. She had every right to be mad.  
  
Lost in his memories for the upteenth time that night, Snape didn't notice her movement until after the fact. Quick as a flash,   
her hands had seized his shoulders and he felt razor-sharp fangs cutting into his neck. The pain only lasted a moment, and Snape  
found that he could not have pushed her away even if he wanted to. The feeling following the pain was relaxing, warming, and   
almost erotic. He closed his eyes and his brain was blissfully blank as Lye continued to be latched onto his neck and drain the  
blood from his body.  
  
He was wrong, he realized, when he'd thought that dying at the hands of Voldemort would be anything like dying at the hands of  
a vampire. He raised his hands and placed them tentatively on her hips, feeling like he might collapse if he didn't have something  
to hold onto, and rather just wanting to touch her as well.   
  
Snape barely had time to register the fact that he wasn't dead as she pulled away and pushed him roughly to the floor. Still a bit  
dazed, he looked up at Lye. She had a bit of blood - his blood - on her lips, and she was once again glaring icily at him. He   
wondered how she could retain that expression after something so intimate had obviously just happened. She shook her head, looking  
down at him malevolently.  
  
"I fucking hate you."  
  
  
----------  
  
*A/N* I'm not so sure about vampires in the HP world so the vampires in my world act how I think they should. So, they look like  
humans, can't go out in the sun, and don't have to kill their victims to feed off of them. Don't like it? Don't care. That is All. 


	6. Collision and Conversation

I own nothing.  
  
Chapter 5: Collision and Conversation  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy couldn't sleep. He went to Dumbledore and told him everything, except for the part about Snape killing his  
father and bringing the prisoner, figuring Snape could tell the old man that part himself. Dumbledore seemed to know that  
Draco didn't tell him the whole story, but he didn't say anything. After their 'meeting,' Dumbledore had directed him to   
his normal dormitory and said he could stay there. Except now he couldn't sleep.  
  
He was sitting in the Slytherin common room, staring at the blazing fire and trying to take into account all that had   
happened. His father was dead. Snape had killed him. His mother was left alone in the house. What would she do when she  
woke to find her husband dead, and her son missing in action? Draco didn't kid himself - he doubted Narcissa would care   
much. Lucuis hadn't been the perfect husband (or father for that matter) and Narcissa wasn't exactly a caring mother herself.  
Because of this, Draco found it was hard to give a damn what happened to either of them.  
  
He was concerned about one thing, though. That thing was called Voldemort. Draco shuddered unconciously when this thought  
entered his mind. His father, of course, had expected him to follow in his footsteps. Draco had other plans, though. Being  
a DeathEater wasn't exactly on his action item list. He wasn't particularly -against- the Dark Lord, but being a follower of  
anyone wasn't something he saw himself doing. People followed him, not the other way around. Be this as it may, he didn't  
doubt that Voldemort would be on the look-out for him. Hell, he might even be convinced that Draco had killed his father   
instead of Snape. Wouldn't that be pleasant.  
  
Sighing, he rose from the plush green couch in front of the fire. He needed to take a walk to clear his head. Stepping out  
of the common room, he found the castle was dark and foreboding. This was a side of the castle he didn't see much, the night  
gave him a whole new perspective. Night-time adventure was Potty and the Weasel's thing, not his. His parents would have  
been less than pleased to get a letter finding out their son was causing trouble in school. And when they were less than  
pleased, bad things happened.  
  
Draco found himself in a long, dark corridor that he didn't recognize. Paintings looked down at him from their frames,   
sometimes whispering to one another. Pulling his arms around himself, he wished he'd brought a cloak of some sort with him.  
It was rather cold in this castle at night, even in summer. Suddenly he heard the sound of footsteps somewhere down the   
corridor and instinctively moved into the shadows.  
  
They wouldn't get mad at him for moving around the castle after all that had happened, would they? He was on vacation afterall.  
Well, it was a good time to find out. He made his way out of the shadows and continued down the hallway as the footsteps got  
louder. Being as dark as it was, Draco didn't see the other figure until it collided with him and he was knocked onto the   
ground.  
  
"Oof!"  
  
The other person had obviously fallen down, as well. Draco got himself to his feet, and pulled out his wand.  
  
"Lumos."  
  
The prisoner girl Snape had brought with him came into view, standing and dusting herself off.  
  
"Hey, sorry kid," she said. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I guess."  
  
Draco nodded. "It's all right. It is pretty dark in here, anyway."  
  
She smirked like she had a secret, but kept quiet. Draco looked her over suspiciously.  
  
"What are you doing out here, anyway?"  
  
Lye's mood turned sour unexpectedly. "What do you care? Just cuz your father kept me prisoner for god knows how long doesn't  
mean you have any power over me."  
  
"Oh, no, I didn't mean that...I just meant, well, I thought you'd be staying with Professor Snape or something."  
  
"Not fucking likely," she snorted derisively. Then, changing tone, she asked,"What're you doing out here?"  
  
Draco shrugged. "Needed to clear my mind, I guess. Just walking."  
  
"Well, I guess we're kind of on the same boat then."  
  
Without any verbal exchange, they started walking together. The silence lasted for a while, until Draco finally spoke.  
  
"So, uh, who are you, exactly?"  
  
"Oh, I figured you'd know that," she responded. "Being as how we were in the same house for quite some time."  
  
"Father never really talked about his...er, prisoners," Draco said, proceeding with caution. He wasn't looking forward to  
setting her off again as she seemed to have quite a temper, if the exchange in Snape's rooms was any indication.  
  
"Well, my name's Lyeta. I kind of prefer Lye, though."  
  
"You mean like the caustic alkaline solution lye?"  
  
She laughed faintly. "Sort of like that, I guess. So what's Severus doing saving your ass?"  
  
"Sever...oh, Professor Snape," Draco said. "Uhm, I don't know really. I always sort of thought he was in league with my  
father, you know, a Death Eater and all. But I guess he's a spy for Dumbledore," a beat, then. "Why'd he save you?"  
  
Lye shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend to know the inner workings of Severus, er, Snape's mind. If you ask me, it was a  
complete lapse of good judgement. Especially killing Lucius."  
  
"Why? Father would have killed you if he hadn't killed him first."  
  
"He would have tried," she muttered. "But I don't know. Maybe he wants to relive the past, or something."  
  
"The past?," Draco questioned. "You and Snape used to know each other?"  
  
"Yes, used to being the key words. He must've realized after what happened, that things had changed," Lye seemed to get  
reminescent for a moment before shaking her head and continuing. "So what are you going to do now?"  
  
"It's not really up to me, for now anyway. Dumbledore seems to know what he's doing, I guess I'll wait until he decides  
something."  
  
They stopped walking, and Lye nodded.   
  
"Well, uh, this is my room," Draco said, somewhat awkwardly. "I guess I'll try to go to sleep."  
  
Lye nodded again. "All right. I should probably find somewhere to camp out for the day as well," she said, then almost as  
an afterthought. "It was nice talking to you."  
  
"You, too," Draco said. Then he disappeared behind the painting of a rather formidable looking man who scowled down at Lye  
as the painting-portal closed.  
  
Lye didn't notice as she wandered off, not knowing where she was going. Somewhere dark, she imagined. Now that she'd fed  
she was rather tired; sleep came easy on a full stomach. Or full veins, as the case may be.  
  
Her thoughts turned to the young Malfoy she'd just parted ways with. She was predisposed to hate him, of course, as he was  
his father's son. After talking to him, however, she could sense that he wasn't so much like his father as she had expected.  
In fact, the boy seemed to harbor a definate dislike for the man. Could Lucius have treated his own family as bad as he had  
treated her? The thought didn't seem too unbelievable. A mystery for another night, she decided. She decended back towards  
the dungeons, but definately not towards Snape's rooms. That was definately something to deal with another night, as well.  
  
  
  
*A/N* Arrite so this is a short chapter but I didn't really know what else to do with it. Not very action-packed or anything,  
but it progressed the non-existent-still-to-be-decided plot along, I think. Hey! You know what's nice? Reviews are nice. No,  
really. I would have no qualms with getting reviews. 


	7. Explosion and Subjugation

Chapter 6: Explosion and Subjugation  
  
Severus Snape rose a short time after eight AM. It didn't take him long to get to sleep, thanks to the tiring night's  
activities. Knowing there wasn't much to do but wait for Dumbledore's orders, he took his time waking up.  
He stretched and pulled back the dark green silken sheets from his bed, then moved to the dark oak wardrobe. Extracting  
clothes for the day - black, of course - he dressed and headed towards his main room for a morning cup of tea and perhaps  
a read of the Daily Prophet. His thoughts were interrupted by the sleeping form on his couch.  
  
Short, messy red hair. A small and fragile-looking form. Arms wrapped around itself and knees drawn to it's chest. What  
was she doing here? He was sure after her display last night that she would have taken the opportunity to flee, but here  
she was, asleep on his couch and looking for all the world like an angel. Snape shook his head to free his mind of these  
thoughts. No need to go -there- again.  
  
After preparing the tea, he decided to go for a walk about the castle. There was no way in hell he could stay in the same  
room as her and keep his sanity, at least not right now. Give him a couple days to get used to it, yes, that's all he   
needed.  
  
Escaping the mental torture that oozed from his dungeons, he started towards the Great Hall, which for the summer was more  
like a teacher's lounge. The only people there this morning were Dumbledore and McGonnagal. Snape took his regular seat at  
the table and tried to look like he wasn't worth disturbing. Dumbledore, however, wasn't falling for it.  
  
"Ah, Severus," the older man greeted him. "Nice to see you. I trust the operation last night went well?"  
  
"Er," Snape started. Just how much -had- Draco told him. "As well as could be expected, I suppose."  
  
Dumbledore smiled, that familiar twinkle back in his blue eyes. "Nothing unexpected, then? No extra guests staying in the  
castle? In your dungeons, even?"  
  
Snape gritted his teeth. How was it that this man seemed to know -everything-? "Yes, well, I don't suppose she'll be   
around for very long. Not a problem, really."  
  
"Oh, I quite agree," Dumbledore said, still smiling. "Quite a charming young lady if you ask me."  
  
At Snape's look, the Headmaster's smile widened. "We had a conversation after you and her parted ways," Dumbledore explained.  
  
Snape groaned inwardly. The last thing he needed was Lye telling all of his collegues about their younger days together. It  
could very well ruin his reputation which he'd worked so hard to get. Rethinking his course of action, he stood.  
  
"Well, that's lovely. Now if you'll excuse me." Snape left the Great Hall in a flurry of black robes. The day was decidely   
-not- looking pleasant.  
  
-------  
  
Snape was right. Although the day wasn't pleasant, it wasn't particularly eventful either. He had returned to his study   
(despite the obvious dangers involved) and read through a well-worn potions book for a good part of the day. After picking  
a potion to make, he relocated to his classroom and started adding together the first stage of ingredients. The only   
disturbance came, quite expectedly, after the sun had sunk beneath the fringes of the Forbidden Forest.  
  
He was in the process of chopping Mandrake root when the adjoining door from his study flung open, causing a few bottles   
which were on the shelf concealing said door to come crashing to the ground. He was willing to let it  
slide if she didn't look at him. He begged Merlin not to let her look at him.  
  
"Pity," her voice, completely void of remorse, cut through the air. "But I guess you can fix that, huh?"  
  
Her gaze moved from the mess on the floor, which was being eaten away as a silvery liquid met with a blueish powder, and came  
to rest on the lank, darkly clothed form in front of her.   
  
'Ah, shit,' Snape thought. 'She's looking at me.'  
  
"Not a problem," he managed. "Carry on."  
  
"Carry on?," Lye scoffed. "Carry on -what-? It's not like I have a fucking purpose here."  
  
"I'm sure you can find something to do," Snape replied, keeping his eyes on the root and trying his best not blanch at the   
horrible smell eminating from the mess on the floor. His insistence on looking down did not go unnoticed by the vampire.   
Irritating always had been one of her specialties, and it seemed to resurface with a vengeance now.  
  
"Whatcha making?," she hoped onto the table he was working at carelessly, although careful enough to not make a mess on the  
table resembling of the one on the floor. Or perhaps that was coincidence.  
  
Snape sneered. Her irritating ways had never gotten to him before, but then, he never wanted her to leave him alone before,   
either. "What happened to 'I fucking hate you'?" His tone mocked hers from the night before.  
  
Her laugh was like acid to his cold shell. None of the malice from last night, and more than a hint of the way he remembered  
her laughing. His blackened heart swelled for a minute, but diminished again with her words.  
  
"Don't worry, Severus, I still fucking hate you. You just seem to be the only entertainment for the time being," she told   
him, swirling a finger through the powdered unicorn horn that was in a neat pile on the table. The movement caught his eye  
and he reached out.  
  
"Stop," he hissed as he grasped her invading hand with his. Invading. That's what she was. Invading, irritating, and   
horribly intriguing. And he would have none of it. He was the feared, respected and perhaps loathed Potions master and   
there was no way in Hades he would let her get to him now.  
  
"In case you haven't noticed," he spat venomously. "I am trying to get something accomplished here. While your life may  
have no purpose, mine does, and I'd appreciate if you would relinquish control of my solitude and make yourself scarce."  
  
She raised an eyebrow coolly. "Well fucking forgive me." She hopped off the desk. "It's not exactly easy to have purpose in  
one's life when the last eight - no, make that twelve - years have been wasted all because I was naive enough to believe that  
I was in love - " another sneer " - with an unlovable fucking bastard such as yourself. Nor is it a pleasant revelation when  
that unlovable bastard comes to one's rescue, quite belated I might add, and shows his true colors yet denies freedom just   
the same. You're no better than Malfoy was."  
  
Snape snarled, despite the insult or perhaps due to it. He raised his wand from it's place on the table, and Lye had seen  
enough of those to have the sense to wrench her hand from his grasp and step back a couple of paces. Snape marked a mental point  
for himself at the horrified look on her face, and swung his wand to the left. The spilled jars reassembled themselves and  
the mess on the floor was gone, the only evidence of it's existence was the now large crater in the floor of the dungeon.   
Silence prevailed for the moment while Lye regained her composure. Snape redirected his attention to the potion he was   
trying to create. He looked at the bubbling cauldron. How long had it been since he added the wormwood? He wasn't quite  
sure, and this particular potion required undivided attention. He thought for a moment, then his mounting anger got the  
best of him.  
  
"FUCK!," the cauldron went crashing to the floor with a clank, the failed potion spilling across the tiles and filling the  
hole caused by Lye's interruption, followed by a flurry of powdered unicorn horn, chopped Mandrake root, and a few other  
indiscernable ingredients. Lye stood still as a statue, not fleeing despite her intuition telling her to get as far away  
from the enraged man as possible. Incogitancy won over.  
  
"Well, glad to see you're not trying to get anything accomplished anymore."  
  
Snape glared up at her from behind a curtain of now-tousled, lank, dark hair. He seethed. If she had been a student, she  
would have been berated, given detention for a week, and had 50 points taken from her house. Unfortunately, she wasn't a  
student, only an inconvenience to his structured way of life, and he was at a loss for appropriate punishment.  
  
"Why didn't you leave last night?," his voice was low, silken, and dangerous as he addressed her.  
  
Lye debated. It was, in all respects, a very good question. She -should- have left.  
  
"I...I have no idea where we are," she stammered.  
  
"Certainly you could have found some cave to crawl into to await the dusk."  
  
"I wasn't sure if, I mean...it might not have...been safe," she floundered now. His gaze was directly penetrating her sheild  
of bravado, peircing straight into her like a heated needle.  
  
Snape shook his head, a ghost of a smirk appearing on his lips. "Stupid girl."  
  
Anger flashed briefly in her eyes, and her jaw clenched. He had a wand at hand, but surely there would be some retribution  
if he were to kill her with it? They had a whole ministry for stuff like that, misusing magic and all, and to the best of  
her knowledge there was no law forbidding vampires to kill, especially when provoked or threatened. All this went through  
her head as their stare-down continued, but she wasn't really considering killing him. Killing never held much interest in  
her case, and she was rather enjoying this little match of wits - even if she was losing. It was exciting. She decided to  
attack a more personal area, rather than appease him with a childish retort.  
  
"I wasn't even angry at you for killing people in the name of fun. I wasn't mad at you for what you chose to do," she stated in  
a tone that, in it's own way, matched his low and dangerous one. "You washed your hands of me simply for being what I was."  
  
Snape paled slightly, but did not alter his harrowing gaze nor did he appear to become angry or remorseful. "You weren't honest  
with me. Perhaps if I'd known what I was dealing with, that whole mess never would have happened."  
  
"One minute I'm the love of your life, the next minute I'm a mess," Lye kept likewise still, standing her ground. "I didn't   
know blood held such high priority. You and Malfoy are looking more and more similar by the moment."  
  
Again she compared him to the man he had killed not 24 hours ago. A man she must have known he loathed, although he doubted  
she could fathom just how deep that hatred ran. If it were not for Malfoy, he would not have become the vile creature he was.  
If it were not for Malfoy, his life would not been in very serious danger at this second. Then again, if it were not for Malfoy,  
he would not even be having his discussion right now.  
  
"You spoke earlier of naivety," he said. "I guess we were both naive."  
  
The lock between their eyes didn't falter, but confusion was apparent in the female's. Was he giving up, admitting he was   
wrong? It seemed impossible, but there it was, clear as day. Or night, since she couldn't quite remember just how clear day  
was.  
  
"You weren't naive," she said. "You were wrong."  
  
Snape laid his hands flat on the table before him and dropped his head. Black hair obscured the eyes completely from view, and  
this small gesture finalized his defeat. His voice dropped noticeably from it's earlier tone, and loss any danger it once held  
as well. "I was wrong."  
  
Lye wasn't sure what to do about this. No sense of triumph overcame her in his admittal of guilt. Not at all what she had   
expected, and certainly nowhere near pleasant. He was wrong, and he was remorseful, and although she should be basking in this,  
she only felt worse.   
  
She bit her tongue and blood coursed into her mouth. Not her blood, she reminded herself. His blood. Realizing this was not  
exactly the consolation she had been looking for. With another glance at the defeated man before her, she turned on her heel.  
  
And she fled.  
  
  
  
------  
  
  
  
  
*A/N* Sorry that took so long, I had a bit of writer's block going on and once again, I am horrible with plots. I hope I'm   
keeping everyone interested here. I got some ideas for more chapters, just have to put them into writing.  
JS Summer, in response to your question, I'm subscribing to the theory that to become a vampire one must be bitten then also   
drink the vampire's blood, so no Snape isn't a vampire. Not yet, anyway? Thanks for the review! Makes me feel all warm n'   
fuzzy inside.  
If you wanna make me feel warm and fuzzy, too, please review. Or you could send me a six-pack of Guinness. That works for  
warm n' fuzzy as well! 


	8. Suction and Exemption

Chapter 7: Suction and Exemption  
  
She fled, and she had no idea where she was going. For some reason she stayed in the castle, even though the doors leading  
outside would be easy enough to find. She was thinking hard, and not really paying attention to her course or destination.  
  
As she ran, she tried to grasp the facts that she knew, without a doubt, to be true. Severus was wrong; she knew it and  
he admitted it. Severus was also the reason she'd spent the past 8 years in Malfoy's dungeon. Alternately, he was part  
of the reason she even entertained the idea of going on for those 8 years. She was no longer a prisoner to anyone, but she  
still remained in this fucking castle with it's spooky pictures that whispered as you ran past and creaking suits of armor  
that seemed to watch you and stairs that grabbed your feet and sucked them into their depths -   
  
A thud resonated through the surrounding area as Lye landed flat on her face. Any thought she'd had stopped immediately as  
she sat up and rubbed her head. She squirmed around, trying to free her foot from the offending stair, even grasping it with  
both hands and pulling feircely. All she accomplished was pulling a few muscles, however.  
  
"Fuck," she muttered. "This is ridiculous."  
  
"That one gets them all the time," a rather prestigous looking gentleman in a white-powdered wig told her from a painting   
nearby.  
  
"Yea, well you could've warned me beforehand," she sneered at it.  
  
"No need to get crass, dear," another painting, this time a gaunt woman in a hideous salmon-colored dress told her. "If you  
were condemned to a life of watching the living, you'd enjoy any bit of entertainment you got, too."  
  
Lye sighed loudly, still not resigned to her fate. "All right, so what's the trick? You've had your fun, now tell me how to  
get my foot out of this fucking thing."  
  
"No trick," the man in the first painting said. "You just have to wait for someone to come by and help you out."  
  
Grumbling and pouting, she lay back against the stairs and waited.  
  
------  
  
Severus Snape looked up when he heard the door to the classroom close. She had left. Now, after everything, she had left.  
Was that what she had wanted, is it why she didn't leave last night? She wanted to hear him say he was wrong? Well, if that  
was indeed what she wanted, then she had it. He cursed slightly under his breath and directed his attention to cleaning up  
the mess he'd made by splattering the simple, yet elaborate Cold Cure Potion. His thoughts would not obey being distracted.  
  
Why -had- he admitted that he was wrong? What was he trying to accomplish by telling her? Surely, he wasn't hoping for some  
sort of romance to spring up between them. First off, Snape had long since lost any respect for people who believed in true  
love and did not see himself anywhere among those ranks. Secondly, she hated him. She had said so herself, in a quite  
convincing tone. But there was something else - she had said she was in love with him for 12 years. That would make the  
two and a half which they were together, the one and a half after he jilted her, and the eight that she had spent after  
meeting Voldemort and spent in Malfoy's possession. Surely she didn't hold her affection for him that long. And she most  
positively didn't now. The very idea was ludicrous. Wasn't it?  
  
After the mess was cleaned, he had no interest in staying in the classroom so he left. He started off towards the Astronomy  
tower, a place which over the years he'd come to enjoy. Not only did he often find students lurking there for late-night   
duels or intimate contact, looking up at the stars reminded him that no matter what happened to him, it would very doubtfully  
be of any consequence to the universe. It was relieving to realize the world didn't rest on his shoulders.  
  
Turning a corner, he heard voices. He paused in his expedition to listen. An unrecognizable voice, female, high pitched and  
rather arrogant sounding, spoke first. This was followed by an unmistakeable voice, the one of the girl who'd just left his  
classroom. Judging from their conversation, Lye had fallen victim to one of the trick stairs that appeared frequently around  
Hogwarts. Snape allowed himself a slight snicker before continuing on his way.  
  
He made his way up the steps, cloaks billowing in their typical fashion, and pretended that he couldn't hear Lye as she  
pleaded and cursed at him.  
  
"Hey," she was saying. "Hey! Hey, you fucking pompous asshole!"  
  
Snape found himself sprawled on the steps above her as one of her hands latched around his cloak. He sneered and looked down   
at her, pulling himself into a sitting position.  
  
"Yes?," he drawled.  
  
"Help me out of this fucking thing."  
  
She motioned to the stair that her foot had disappeared into. He smirked.  
  
"Perhaps you'll do better to watch where you're going next time," he said, standing and brushing himself off. He turned to  
leave but was disappointed when she once again grabbed ahold of his cloak. Perhaps he should consider something less...  
billowing.  
  
"Severus," she near-whined. "Please don't be an asshole, for once."  
  
He groaned resignedly, then turned and wrapped his arms firmly around her waist. With a swift tug, he set her on the step  
above the tricky one and looked at her expectantly.  
  
"Thank you," she said curtly.  
  
"As I said, perhaps you'd do better to watch your step around here," he repeated and headed off towards his initial destination.  
She followed, much to his annoyance. He made his way to the next hall before speaking again, and didn't turn to look at her  
when he did.  
  
"Why are you following me? You've gotten what you wanted."  
  
"What I wanted?," she said, still keeping pace with him. "What makes you think you know what I want?"  
  
"I admitted I was wrong, you won, now you can go on your merry way," he waved a hand dismissively.  
  
Lye snorted. "Whatever way I go, I can assure you it won't be merry. Besides that, I didn't win just because you know you're  
wrong."  
  
"Oh?," Snape turned to look at her and she had to halt quite suddenly not to run into him.  
  
"Yea," she told him, once she had regained her footing. "If you ask me, we both lose."  
  
Snape looked her over carefully. Her eyes and stance revealed nothing and he wasn't exactly sure what to make of her words.  
He pressed his lips together. "Be that as it may, I'm not one to hold onto the misgivings of the past."  
  
He made to turn again, but she grabbed his arm. "And I'm not one to hold onto grudges from the past."  
  
His eyes searched her form again but he still wasn't sure what she was insinuating. He figured asking outright would be  
the quickest way to a conclusion. "Meaning?"  
  
"Look," she started. "You're a vile, horrible, despicable person and you fucked me over worse than anyone else ever has."  
He nodded and she continued. "But you're also the only person I've related with on anything more than an aquaintence level,  
and you did sorta save my ass, so..."  
  
"So?," he prompted when she didn't continue.  
  
"So I guess the good cancels out the bad, and what it means is that, I forgive you," she told him.   
  
  
*A/N* No A/N!  
Please review. 


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